


Between Us, We Can Do Anything

by 305unreal



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/305unreal/pseuds/305unreal
Summary: A rewrite of the series if our favorite doctors were attending college, training to be doctors at PPTH, and being the young, confused people they are.Centered on House and Wilson"As long as you're trying to be good, you can do whatever you want.""And as long as you're not trying, you can say whatever you want.""So between us, we can do anything. We can rule the world!"
Relationships: Greg House & James Wilson, Greg House/Dylan Crandall, James Wilson/Julie Wilson





	Between Us, We Can Do Anything

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Parked Taxi with the Meter Running](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502518) by [Ima_Paris_Sight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ima_Paris_Sight/pseuds/Ima_Paris_Sight). 



> The italics don't transfer from my computer to my phone where I need to upload... So, the 1st person POV before some of the dialogue moments are thoughts.
> 
> If it gets confusing, ask.

“We got a nineteen-year-old female,” James walks over to his friend with an open folder. “Progressive deterioration of mental status…”

“Just say she had a seizure and can’t talk,” Greg groans, walking away on his cane.

“Well, she’s been assigned to us,” he hands the folder off. “She’s my cousin, Rebecca Adler.”

Sounds like a brain tumor. Boring, but it’d make Wilson illogically sad. Infectious disease and oncology majors. We’re going to have such fun jobs. “Any relation to your uncle who died of cancer?”

“Other side. There’s no environmental factors. She’s an education major here.”

He sighs. “Fine. Let’s take it to the team.”

House and Wilson – both juniors – bring the case file to a group of three freshmen who are assigned to work with them starting this semester. Cameron already worked with them last year, but it’s the first semester for Chase and Foreman. House orders Foreman to redraw blood tests and the other two to schedule her for a contrast MRI.

“Hey Greg,” Lisa catches up with him at the elevator when their shifts are over.

She’s interning in administration but is in the teaching hospital roughly the same amount of time as him. He repeatedly presses the ‘down’ arrow and quickly steps inside – but she ignores this and walks behind him.

“I thought you were going to visit me at the clinic.”

“Got a case,” he shrugs.

“You get a case every day. That’s the whole point of the program.” She shakes her head. “Whatever. Have you studied for the chemistry exam?”

“That’s on Friday.”

“So?”

“That’s two days from now.”

“And?”

“And we don’t study that early. We drink and play video games and gossip about the people we work with.”

She scowls at him, but the elevator dings at the lobby, and Greg ignores her. Despite limping when he walks, he can be fast when he wants to. He signs out and joins his best friend at the front entrance.

“Pizza or Chinese?”

“Chinese,” Greg nods. “Need some Lo Mein.”

The next day, Chase and Cameron are the first two of the diagnostics team to sign in at the hospital. Eric (Foreman) has a math class, James has literature, and Greg is in his dorm room, eating an omelet that James left in aluminum foil on the stolen Bunsen burner. At a quarter till eleven, the students wheel Rebecca to the MRI room.

“Is this dangerous?” She asks them, slightly worried that her doctors are roughly her age.

“Not at all,” Cameron shakes her head. “Basically, whatever’s in your head will light up like a Christmas tree on our monitors.”

Chase nods. “You might feel a little lightheaded.”

Not ten minutes into the scan, Rebecca has an allergic reaction to the gadolinium and falls unconscious in the MRI. At ten till 12:30, House and Wilson arrive to the hospital and sign in. Chase and Cameron decided to tell Foreman about Rebecca instead of the upperclassmen, thinking that if they fix the problem without involving the older boys, they’ll be praised. House signs into the clinic for an hour.

“Is there a room with a TV? General Hospital is on soon.”

“Don’t think so, House.” Cuddy walks up to him with a folder. “Here. Go to exam room one.”

He huffs. “Just because you’re in administration doesn’t make you my boss.”

“Patient has back spasms. And he’s orange.”

He blinks. “The color?”

“No, the fruit.” She rolls her eyes. “Not yellow, not red. He’s orange.”

Intrigued, he walks inside. Sure enough, a thirty-something man is sat on the bed, orange-skinned, and fiddling with his wedding ring. He explains how his back started hurting when he was playing golf and progressed to not being able to get up in the morning. House nods, smirking, and pulls out his Vicodin.

“What’s that?”

“Painkillers,” he responds, popping a pill and swallowing it dry.

“Oh, for your leg.”

House rolls his eyes. “Want one? Make your back feel better.” The patient nods, and House hands one over. “Dude, you’re orange. Your wife – or husband, whatever – hasn’t picked up on the fact that your skin color is different. They’re cheating on you. Also, I’m assuming you’re that way because you eat huge amounts of carrots and mega-dose vitamins?”

He nods, and House continues. “Carrots turn your yellow, and niacin turns you red. My advice? Eat junk and get a good lawyer.”

As he walks out, a nurse that Cuddy appointed hands him another folder for exam room four.

12:46pm  
🦀: Becca was allergic to gadolinium. Team cut a hole in her throat.

12:47pm  
GH: Told you; can’t trust people.

12:47pm  
🦀: Told them to talk to her.

12:48pm  
GH: Y not just ask her cousin?

12:48pm  
🦀: Bias?

House rolls his eyes and pockets his phone. He knows his best friend is hiding something from him, but he can’t pinpoint what it is. He walks into exam room four and grabs the stethoscope for his young – a seven-year-old boy – patient while the kid’s mom talks about his condition and his asthma. The boy complains about the coldness of the medical equipment, but House ignores him.

“Has he been using his inhaler?”

“Not in the past few days. He’s young, and I worry about children taking such strong medicine so frequently.”

The kid begins to wheeze, and House turns around to berate the mother. He deadpans the lack of strong medicine versus the need for oxygen and breathing. He goes into vivid detail explaining what happens in the bodies of asthma patients.

“… Mucus production increases, cell-lining starts to shed. But the steroids, the steroids… stop the inflammation.” His eyes widen as he realizes what may be wrong with his case patient. “The more often this happens…”

He trails off and limps to the door. The mother, who had been listening intently, gapes at him. “The more often this happens, what?”

“Forget it,” he scowls, opening the door. “If you don’t trust steroids, you shouldn’t trust doctors.”

House signs out of the clinic early and whips out his phone.

PPTH GC  
12:56pm  
G. House: Give her steroids  
A. Cameron: Steroids? You haven’t even heard the family history  
G. House: Doesn’t matter. High doses of prednisone.  
E. Foreman: Cerebral vasculitis?  
12:57pm  
A. Cameron: Rare for her age  
G. House: So’s a tumor  
G. House: SED elevated  
R. Chase: Mildly  
12:58pm  
J. Wilson: Could mean anything or nothing  
G. House: So, I have no reason except it could be  
A. Cameron: Can’t diagnose it without a biopsy  
G. House: Can so. If she gets better, we know we’re right  
12:59pm  
E. Foreman: And if we’re wrong?  
G. House: We learn something else  
1:02pm  
J. Wilson: You left the clinic, didn’t you?  
G. House: I have a patient  
J. Wilson: Name Quartermaine?  
G. House: 🤫

The freshmen retreat to Rebecca’s room. She asks about the treatment change, and Chase shrugs.

“Part of the treatment. You haven’t had any visitors. No boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“Heh,” she laughs lightly. “Been on three dates with this guy, Brad. Spent the night with him on Tuesday.”

“Any friends in your major, then? Or neighbors?”

“Melanie wants to teach kindergarten like me. She’s the only one who sees teaching as an opportunity instead of an Easy A. a nurse said you’re stopping my radiation.”

“We’re trying alternative medications. Where’s your family from?”

“Steroids aren’t alternative to radiation.” She narrows her eyes. “I have a health class this semester.”

“We’re treating your for vasculitis,” Cameron inputs, walking into the room. “It’s for inflammation of blood vessels in the brain.”

Rebecca turns to face her with a small smile on her face. “It’s not a tumor? I don’t have a tumor?”

Cameron smiles in response, motioning toward Chase, and he follows her into the hallway.

“That was a long shot. You should’ve told her the truth.”

“Why?” She asks. “If we’re right, no harm. If we’re wrong, we gave a dying woman some false hope.” He raises an eyebrow, and she sighs. “Bedside manner 101.”

“Must have missed that class.”

An hour later, Foreman is given consent to search the kindergarten room where Rebecca was student teaching. He lowers himself to the ground to sniff the carpet while the current student teacher – Rebecca’s friend Melanie – has the students coloring. A young student walks up to him with a question on her lips. Foreman reads her nametag – Sidney – and looks over to her.

“Why are you smelling Billy’s pants?”

He side-glances at the nearby boy. “I’m not.”

“Looked like you were.”

“I was smelling the floor,” he corrects her.

“Oh,” she nods. “so, how old are you?”

“Nineteen. Do you have any pets in this class?”

“I’m five. We used to have a gerbil, but Carly L dropped a book on it.”

“Careless,” he cracks a smile.

“Do you need to smell it?”

“No, I’m smelling for mold.”

“You can smell our parrot.”

His grin widens a little. “Thought you said you didn’t have any pets.”

“A parrot is a bird.”

At 2:30, Greg and Eric have a late lunch in the cafeteria. Grey’s Anatomy plays on the television above their heads, and Greg pays more attention to it than Eric.

“Parrots are the primary source of psittacosis,” Eric argues around his egg salad sandwich.

“It’s not the parrot.”

“Psittacosis can lead to nerve problems and neurological complications.”

“Sounds like you’re reading out of a book. How many kids in that class?”

“Twenty.”

“How many out sick?”

“None, but…”

“It’s not the parrot. Have you been through her dorm room?”

“I can probably get the key from Melanie and go tomorrow.”

Greg pops another fry in his mouth and looks down to the freshman seated across from him.

“Don’t trust the friend, just break in. The lady who made your sandwich back there has glassy eyes, and she’s here since she gets minimum wage. So, she’s here while sick, and that makes me wonder if she washes her hands in the bathroom like all the signs say. Tell me, Eric. Do you trust her?”

He frowns, looking down at the food in his hand. Greg nods.

“You have two hours before your history exam. Go check her room for contaminants, garbage, drugs, what have you.”

“I can’t just break into her”

“Isn’t that how you got into the Felkner home?” Greg interrupts, the medical drama forgotten in the background. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Court records are sealed, yada, yada, yada. You were ten, blah, blah, blah. You realize Wilson and I got our pick of freshmen to include on our team?”

“So, you picked me because I broke into a house nine years ago?”

“Street smarts,” he shrugs and grabs the ‘Fall’s Hottest People’ magazine he bought at the register. “I’ll be doing research in the clinic. Go to her dorm.”

Eric frowns but runs into Alison and Robert in the lobby.

“When does your shift end? Either of you?”

“Four,” Chase shrugs. “Why?”

“A few minutes,” Cameron answers after checking her watch.

“Great. C’mon, Alison. I need your help.”

“Help with what?”

“We are going to break into Rebecca’s dorm room.”

Within twenty minutes, Eric and Alison are signed out and have rode the bus to Kaplan Hall. Eric picks the lock to Rebecca’s room after knocking to make sure no one’s inside. Eric goes through the fridge, pocketing a candy bar.

It’s 3:15 when Cuddy finds House reading the magazine.

“How’s your patient?”

“Team’s giving her steroids. I’m researching people. They’re fascinating.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m off. I need to study for the chem test. See you in class tomorrow.”

House waves her off, and she turns around to sign out.

Greg and James sign out at four o’clock. Greg opts for pizza tonight and calls in a Domino’s order while James drives. In their dorm room, the boys eat pizza slices and study for the chemistry test with flashcards.

“In food webs, there’s a loss of energy from one ___ level to another.”

“Trophic,” Greg nods, grabbing another slice and picking up one of his own cards. “What is the name given to small scavengers that feed on dead plants and animals or their waste?”

“Decomposers.”

“Detritivores. Vocab word. More points.”

James sighs. “The vocabulary is going to kill me. Define a selection pressure.”

“Anything that affects which individuals will reproduce more to survive.”

Greg bypasses the last slice and opens another small bag of Doritos. “Which is a base: baking soda or baking powder?”

“Soda,” he nods, accepting the last slice.

“Vocab aside, I think we’re ready. Traffic Racer?”

“Sure.”

The boys set aside the flashcards. James picks up their mess while Greg grabs the controllers to set up the video game. Friday morning at nine-forty, Greg and James sit one chair apart in the back, and Lisa sits up front for their chemistry exam. Thirty-three minutes later, Greg finishes and grabs his bag. James quickly finishes, taking his friend’s test up front with him.

PPTH GC  
10:19am  
G. House: Anyone @ the hospital?

No one responds immediately, and Greg follows James out of the lecture hall. Chemistry is Greg’s only class today. As they hit the sidewalk, Greg’s phone chimes.

PPTH GC  
10:22am  
A. Cameron: Becca’s eating a lot  
G. House: When’d you see her?  
A. Cameron: Half hour ago  
10:23am  
J. Wilson: We’re on the way

A little past eleven, James checks in with Rebecca. After concurring her breathing and writing results on her chart, she pipes up.

“Am I ever gonna meet Dr. House?”

“Maybe,” Wilson laughs lightly. “At the movies. Or on the bus when I can’t take him somewhere.”

“Is he a good man?”

“He’s… a good doctor.”

“Can you be one without the other?” She asks, sitting up. “Don’t you need to care about people?”

“It’s a good motivator,” he shrugs, walking over to her side, “but he’s found something else.”

He places his hand to hers, asking her to squeeze. When she does as asked, she speaks up again.

“Well, he’s your friend, right?”

“Yeah,” he answers without hesitation.

“Does he care about you?”

Well… we’ve been friends for years. We’re roommates in the dorm. We study together, we have the same schedules, he gave me the last slice of pizza… “House likes to say, ‘everybody lies’, but yeah, he cares about me.”

As he leaves the room however, Rebecca loses her sight and has a seizure. She flatlines by the time a nurse runs in. Hours later, the freshmen have been testing Rebecca with activities based on altered mental status and verbal skills. Sometimes, she passes; sometimes, she fails. Greg catches up with James in the cafeteria.

“Hey. You heard the latest from the kids?”

His voice is softer than normal, as though he’s trying to be comforting. The last time James heard his voice in this pitch, he just saw James’ girlfriend cheating on him with a neighbor.

“… should I have?”

“Could be one of three things. A tumor, infectious, or vascular.”

James winces. “Not long for either of them. Sure it’s not anything else?”

“We’re still looking. The steroids did something, but we’re not sure what. The kids…” He trails off, trying to find the right words. “The kids are watching how fast she’s… dying. To find out what’s… killing her.”

James raises his paper cup of coffee. “I guess if that’s what works.”

PPTH GC  
4:37pm  
E. Foreman: No change  
4:40pm  
J. Wilson: Toxins? Medications?  
E. Foreman: Doesn’t explain symptoms  
R. Chase: Family history?  
4:41pm  
E. Foreman: Not that I could tell from her underwear drawer  
G. House: A little decorum?  
R. Chase: You? Want decorum on a patient?  
G. House: She’s Wilson’s cousin  
4:42pm  
E. Foreman: But she’s not Jewish

Greg stares at his phone and glares at the man sitting on his bed with a textbook open. James notices the tidbit and picks up his phone.

4:44pm  
J. Wilson: Why are you spreading lies about Betty?  
J. Wilson: How do you figure she’s not Jewish?  
E. Foreman: Ham in the fridge  
J. Wilson: A lot of Jews have non-Jewish relatives  
4:45pm  
J. Wilson: And not all of us stay kosher  
E. Foreman: Fine. Maybe she’s Jewish  
E. Foreman: But she’s not your cousin  
4:46pm  
J. Wilson: Why now?  
E. Foreman: You don’t even know her name!  
E. Foreman: You called her Betty  
E. Foreman: Her name is Rebecca!  
4:47pm  
J. Wilson: It’s a family nickname!  
G. House: You idiot!

Greg shouts from his bed at the same time he sends the message, and James flinches. He drops his phone on the bed and holds up his hands placatingly. Greg shakes his head at him and turns his focus back on the phone.

PPTH GC  
4:49pm  
G. House: Foreman, you’re an idiot  
E. Foreman: Why?  
G. House: Ham is pork. Where there’s pork, there’s neurocysticercosis  
4:50pm  
R. Chase: Tapeworm? A worm in her brain?  
A. Cameron: That’s a leap  
G. House: Mr. Neurologist, weigh in  
4:51pm  
E. Foreman: If you give steroids to a person with tapeworm, they get better for a while and then get worse  
J. Wilson: Like Becca Adler

Greg sets his phone down and crosses the room. James keeps an eye on him, a little nervous that his friend might attack him for lying about Becca. Instead, Greg largely ignores him, collecting a certain book from their shared bookshelf. He carries the book back to his bed and finds the chapter on tapeworms.

PPTH GC  
4:56pm  
G. House: If the pork isn’t cooked well enough, tapeworm larvae hook to your bowel  
G. House: They live with you, grow up, reproduce  
R. Chase: There’s only one lesion. Not near the bowel  
4:57pm  
G. House: Tapeworms produce 20-30,000 eggs a day  
G. House: Guess where they go  
E. Foreman: Out

“Wilson, sit.” Greg grounds out without looking up from his book and the phone.

Startled, James slips his shoes back off and turns away from the door. He returns to his bed.

PPTH GC  
4:59pm  
G. House: Larvae go out, eggs pass into the bloodstream  
G. House: Where’s the bloodstream go?  
5:01pm  
E. Foreman: Everywhere  
G. House: Worm builds a wall, shuts down the immune system, controls fluid flow  
A. Cameron: But it’s still healthy, right? What do we do?  
5:02pm  
G. House: Worm is dying, immune system wakes up, attacks the worm  
G. House: Bad for the brain  
R. Chase: Eosinophil count’s normal  
5:04pm  
A. Cameron: She doesn’t want any more experiments  
E. Foreman: She’s ready to go home and die  
5:06pm  
G. House: We’re visiting her tomorrow  
E. Foreman: All of us?  
G. House: No. Me and her cousin

“We’re visiting her?” James asks. “On Saturday?”

“Wouldn’t want your cousin to die, would you?”

“Are you going to drop that?”

“Not yet.” He grabs James’ car keys. “Get dressed.”

James drives to the hospital in tense silence. Greg forces the car to stop at the entrance by unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door.

“Meet me in her room.”

He slams the door after giving his friend the order. While James looks for a parking space, Greg walks up to the front desk and signs in.

“I’m Dr. House,” he greets Becca upon arriving at her room.

“Oh! Good to meet”

“You’re being an idiot,” he pauses to clear his throat and let that sink in. “There’s a tapeworm in your brain, and if we don’t do anything, you’ll be dead by the weekend.”

“I’m dying already, aren’t I?” The teenager sighs and looks him over. “What made you a cripple?”

He taps his cane on the floor. “I had an infraction.”

“A heart attack?”

“Blood flow was obstructed. In the heart, it’s a heart attack. I had it in my thigh muscles.”

“Did you… think you were dying?”

He huffs out a bitter laugh, unknowing that Wilson has just made it outside the room. “I hoped I was dying.”

“But you’ve been hiding the entire time I’ve been here. And yet you want me to fight this. Why?”

“Because if you don’t fight it and just stay scared, you turn into me.”

“I… I just want to die with dignity.”

“No such thing. Live with dignity. Get yourself a good job that you actually like. Get yourself a friend who lets you take their food and drives you places. We can live with dignity, but we can’t die with it.”

Becca promises to think about it, and House meets Wilson in the hallway.

“You respect her now, don’t you?”

House groans as he walks down the hall and jabs the ‘down’ elevator button. “Unfortunately.”

Saturday morning, a little after nine, House and Wilson are playing foosball in the student lounge – trying and failing to come up with a strategy to prove there’s a worm.

“I have an idea,” Chase announces from the doorway.

The older boys look up in surprise, and Wilson makes the goal.

“I’m not completely sure, but”

“Get on with the damn idea,” House grouses.

“A regular, old, no contrast x-ray. They’ll light up like shotgun pellets.”

“That’s what we did with the CT scan, but”

“Shut up, Cousin,” House cuts his friend off and turns to the Aussie. “It’s a good plan. Only, don’t x-ray her brain. X-ray her leg. Worms love thigh muscle.”

At ten am, Rebecca is strapped on a table in a dark room. Chase is in the room with her; House, Wilson, Foreman, and Cameron watch from the window. Chase focuses on the teenage patient’s leg and takes the x-ray. He studies the screen, reminding her to remain still. Sure enough, in due time, the worm appears.

“There’s the little bugger.”

Becca gasps. “It’s in my leg? How?”

Pressing a button on the other side of the glass so Becca can hear, House replies, “It’s been there probably for six to ten years. And now we get you better.”

Half an hour later, the team shows up in Rebecca’s room. She’s already in much higher spirits. Cameron hands her a cup with two pills and another cup of water.

“Here’s Albendazole.”

Becca accepts the cups with an almost-laugh. “Two pills?”

Foreman nods. “Yeah, every day with a meal for at least a month.”

“Two pills?” she repeats.

Chase shrugs. “Possible side effects include abdominal pain, nausea, headache, dizziness, fever, and hair loss. We’ll probably make you keep taking the pills even if you get every one of those.”

She lets out the laugh and downs the pills.

Near noon, Greg and James are down in the student lounge. They’re playing along with Jeopardy! and eating from a fry basket that James bought in the cafeteria. Alison walks in and stands in front of the TV.

“Why did you two choose me?”

“For what?” James asks.

“To work with you.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah. I know neither of you respects me. You both act like jerks, but you’re good at medicine and all this. But we’re barely out of high school. You got to pick three freshmen to work with you. I mean, you hired a black guy ‘cause he had a juvenile record, and”

“No, stop.” Greg holds up a hand. “No race involved. We chose Eric to go along with illegal stuff since he had a juvenile record.”

“We chose Rob since his dad called us and bribed us,” James confesses.

“And we chose you since you’re very pretty.”

Alison backs up, looking offended. “You recruited me to get into my pants!?”

“Not me personally, but I can’t believe that shocks you.”

“Plus, you’re likely to relate to the patients more.” James points out.

“I was in the top of my class at the Christian Academy.”

“But not the top.” Greg points out. “Who is Michael Rosenbaum?”

Alison blinks, and James points at the television. The Jeopardy clue reads ‘HE PLAYED VILLAIN LEX LUTHOR ON SMALLVILLE AND HERO KID FLASH ON TEEN TITANS.’ She huffs, grabs the remote, and turns off the telsivison.

“So because I’m not the best, you hired me for my looks?”

“Why does this bother you so much?” Greg growls. “That you’re here for a genetic gift of beauty instead of a genetic gift of intelligence?”

“I worked very hard to get where I am.”

“Gorgeous girls don’t go to college for the intelligent studies. Sciences, maths, medical… not unless they’re as damaged as they are beautiful. Tell me, Alison. Were you abused by a family member?”

“No!” She almost shouts.

James rolls his eyes and sits back as Greg continues. “Sexually assaulted?”

“No.” She crosses her arms.

“But you are damaged, aren’t you?”

She gapes like a fish, but she’s saved from responding by her mobile ringing. She huffs again and answers the call, leaving the lounge. Greg grabs the discarded remote and turns on Jeopardy! in time for the final round. The show ends, and James buys a couple of candy bars from the vending machine. Greg accepts a Mars bar.

“So, why’d you lie?”

James winces slightly. “It got you to take the case.”

“We were assigned to it anyway.” Greg points out. “Lying to a friend to save a stranger. That’s not a little screwed up?”

“And you’ve never lied to me?”

“Nah.” He smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”


End file.
